Sir Pen Pal
by quill.is.mightier
Summary: A pen pal project is assigned in Muggle Studies and Lily might get a surprise out of her partner, a mystery man with whom she quickly becomes infatuated. But since her mother's death, Lily hasn't been the same... can James bring her back to life?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: License says I am NOT J.K Rowlng.

_Pen pals?_ Lily thought to herself, disbelievingly. It was like a bad novel, and she was now feeling, for the first time, like she should have listened to her friends and dropped Muggle Studies after the OWLs. Professor Burbage, the rather young Muggle enthusiast who taught the subject at Hogwarts said that she wished the class "could focus more on the cultural aspects of Muggles. Alas, no wizards have had the drive to design a study of the cultural differences. So, I must assign this whimsical topic to give the feel of the Muggle romance film I once saw. _The Shop Around the Corner_, I believe it was called.

Lily giggled to herself. She had the seen the Jimmy Stewart movie from the 40s, she and her mother being fans of older films. It was a lovely story about two coworkers who loathed one another but were falling in love via letters they wrote each other as anonymous pen pals. She failed to see how this gave a comprehensive view of Muggle culture, but she supposed that was what Burbage had been going on about- she could not give them a cultural lesson so she assigned a "fun", semi-related project instead. Although how she was going to grade them was a mystery, since she promised she would not read them, but would merely pass them along to their anonymous partners.

"Geesh, we have enough _real_ NEWT work to be doing without this nonsense about love letters!" Mary said as they exited the class.

"Well, it's not as if she's reading them, so they don't have to be particularly good," Lily started to say, when James Potter stepped up to walk alongside them.

"Do I hear Lily Evans suggesting anyone give less than 100 percent effort on an assignment?" he said lightly, tossing his book in his bag.

"I was merely suggesting Mary not fret about it, James. I would like the extra credit we get if we can identify our pen pal at the end of the assignment, but I suppose I don't really need it."

"Well, I didn't do too well on that essay about checks, so I need the extra credit. Can't figure out how the blighters know whether it will…er- 'bounce'? It's not real money!" he exclaimed and Lily chuckled absentmindedly.

"Why didn't you ask Lily for help?" Mary asked.

"In case you forgot, Mary, Lily-dear had a slight dislike of me until a few weeks ago. And the essay was due a month ago."

"Oh yeah. Bad luck, that," she said as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch, where James went to sit with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, as per usual. She and Mary sat nearby, but on their own, where they discussed the Arithmancy homework.

"How exactly did you get her to talk to you, again?" Peter asked. James sighed.

"I told her we should play nice because of the Heads situation," he said, slightly exasperated. After all, this had happened three weeks ago.

"And she agreed?" Peter squeaked.; that was the part he could not wrap his mind around.

"She said she strove not to hold grudges when they were pointless and outdated. Plus she had noticed I've been trying hard not be an arse. And that I haven't asked her out since before end of term last year." He sighed again and stabbed the lettuce of his salad. He had been quite fond of greens since become an Animagus with a stag form, but nothing whetted his appetite lately. Lily was always lingering in his mind.

She was perfectly polite and nice, but there was no warmth to their interactions. They were just acquaintances that spent a lot of time together because of school. Could he blame her? His unfailing tendency to speak out his arse when she was nearby had really put a damper on their relationship.

He stabbed his greens again.

"So how goes it with James?" Mary asked the next night as they composed their letters for Muggle Studies.

"Huh? Oh fine. He's been perfectly polite. I couldn't have asked for him to step up more than he has," she said as she scanned her letter. She had to make sure she did write anything that would reveal her identity. Burbage said it was crucial, but Lily did not know how the professor would check since she swore not to read the letters. Lily hoped she did not get stuck with some silly third year boy as her partner. Burbage had given the assignment to every year she taught and she wanted identities to remain an absolute secret so you could only guess if you really knew your partner's personality already. The only clues you had were that the person had to be in Muggle Studies (but really, it seemed like most people were) and she assigned partners in a boy-girl fashion. So Lily scanned her letter to make sure she had not let anything slip.

_Dear Pen Pal,_

_I write this letter wondering what might come of this assignment. Will I make a new friend, laugh with an old one, or simply gain nothing? I must admit, I find the assignment rather unusual, but what is there to be done about enthusiastically batty professors?_

_Since the females are writing the first letters (do you suppose Burbage has a feminist message there?), I guess I will ask you some questions, so you don't have to face the awkward prospect of thinking of something to write all on your own, like I did. So, mysterious stranger, how do you like your eggs? What is your favorite thing about magic? Sunrise or sunset? Quidditch or food?_

_Hopefully that is enough fodder for your letter. I wish you a good day, sir._

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

Satisfied, Lily shut her journal and wondered what would happen if she performed some tests on it… She decided that cheating was not the way to figure out who her partner was, but she was curious about how Burbage had set the whole thing up. The professor had merely said that whatever you wrote in your journal would transfer to the partner journal at the noon every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Burbage had a way of recording whether or not any text was transferred, to give a grade for participation. Lily was actually intrigued to get her response, Friday she supposed, since her pen pal would get her "letter" the next day, Wednesday. She realized Mary had said something that she had not understood.

"Hm?"

"I said, are you always so scrupulously polite?" Mary repeated with hints of awe and disgust in her voice. Lily laughed, shaking her head and tossing a pillow at her best friend.

"I think James Potter, of all people, knows how not polite I can be. But he's being nice. No need to hold a grudge, right?" she said. "Plus, I told myself I'd get in as few… unnecessary fights as possible since Mom passed away," she added, shrugging and trying not to look away.

"Well…just remember you can still get in justified fights. Like if he hits on you again," Mary said with a teeny chuckle. She was still hesitant about how to act around Lily when parents were mentioned. Lily understood. After all, she felt the same way.

That spring her mother had gotten into a minor car accident. Nothing much wrong, but the routine scans found the brain tumor that had been insidiously growing beneath the skull. They found it in time to tell her how long she had and give her medication for the headaches her mother had just begun to experience. She had passed in the middle of Lily's summer break, after the two had just had a row.

By the time term started, Lily had accepted her mother's death but was still overcome occasionally by bouts of melancholy. Her entire manner, in fact, had mellowed slightly. She was a little less fiery and a little more reserved, though she truly had always done her best to maintain a dignified presence, even if Potter had sometimes made her slip. Lily looked out the dormitory window and twirled her hair, thinking about who her pen pal could be.

In class, Lily crossed her legs and put her chin in her hand, which rested on her desk. She glanced around the room, looking at the people, wondering if perhaps one of them would turn out to be her partner. She had to admit- the project seemed more fun every day. Mary seemed to have warmed up to the idea a little, but Lily thought that perhaps Mary was not quite as excited as she herself was. Lily had to remind herself gently that she would not get her response for two more days. She shrugged and leaned down to get her notebook out of her bag on the floor, ready for class. Yet her mind kept wandering to the boy who would get her letter in his journal in just a couple of hours…

James opened his journal at lunch, planning to read and eat at the same time. He found the letter nice and he was looking forward to answering her questions tonight, by the fire. Sirius sat down next to him at the table and looked over his shoulder at the journal.

"Mate, I know you're a girl, but do you really need a diary?" he said while heaping food onto his plate. The boy could eat like it was his day job.

"Padfoot, for the sake of the house elves, please slow down your consumption of the food. And I told you I have to write letters in a journal for Muggle Studies. Besides, it's obvious this handwriting isn't mine," he said, gesturing to the page.

"Don't fee anyfing, Pwongs," Sirius said through a mass of half-masticated mush.

"Right here," James said, perplexed, before he realized Burbage must really not want anything to spoil the mystery. She must have charmed the journals so only the owner could read them, in case the partner happened to look over anyone's shoulder, as Sirius had.

"Nevermind," he mumbled. "It's charmed." Sirius gave him a look that said he had not really cared to begin with and kept eating his food. James decided to check on Remus, back at the dorm. The full moon had been two days ago, so Remus spent all his time outside of class in bed, recuperating.

Remus was reading and dozing, as expected, so James decided to write his letter rather than do real work.

_Dear Me,_

_ It is 1:00 p.m. on Wednesday, yet I find I must answer your deeply probing questions right away, though I know you will not see the answers until Friday. And by deeply probing, I mean not probing at all. _

_ I like my eggs in an omelet with everything. My favorite thing about magic is how it makes dreams come true (have you seen McGonagall shrink to the size of a small child? It sure seemed like my dream come true when we didn't have to turn that essay in…). Sunrise, because it's the start of a day with endless possibilities. Did that sound girly? Because I'm not. Girly, that is. And, finally….I would play Quidditch with food. I think a nice melon would make a lovely Quaffle, don't you?_

_ My turn. I would like to know your favorite thing about magic, and also your favorite season. How do you drink your coffee? Would you rather date a goblin or a Slytherin (oops- does that reveal I'm not a Slytherin…oh, well, I think Burbage can handle it)? And why do you seem so against the concept of a quill pal?_

_ I will now bid you a good weekend, since you will receive this Friday._

_Sincerely,_

_Sir Pen Pal_

On Friday Lily pleasantly awaited her letter, tuning out Alice in her anticipation. She felt bad, as Alice was talking about her budding friendship with Frank Longbottom, but Lily had found Hogwarts was lately rather lacking in diversions, as Jane Austen would say, and she was hoping the letter would be an interesting change. In the Great Hall she saw many people take out brown journals, just like hers, to check their letters at noon. She laughed to herself, and was going to comment to Alice, but Lily found that her friend, too, was busy with her letter. _How intriguing this assignment is turning out to be…_

Lily was amused by her pen pal, who had charmingly taken her "assigned" names and reproduced them in his own letter.

_Sir Pen Pal,_

_You have successfully diverted me for at least two minutes. Congratulations. Now, I must inform you that I am quite sure I could not have mistaken you for a Slytherin after having read but one sentence of your letter, so fear no retribution from me._

_ As for myself, I love the challenge of magic. It seems like it makes life so easy- clean a house with a single word, furnish your house with a simple spell! But, it's never quite that easy, is it? Think of all the laws and restrictions the Ministry of Magic has in place- no Conjuring something you do not already own, no using your own natural talent outside of school until age 17, no Unforgivables… Besides the innate complexity of performing any spell, there is theory, ethics, and law to consider at every turn!_

_Oh dear, have I revealed myself to be a nerd? And are there enough of them at Hogwarts that my identity is still safe? The question merits further investigation…_

_At any rate, autumn is my favorite season. Perfect temperatures and beautiful colors._

_Finally, the _pen_ pal concept just seems slightly wasteful and the grading system does not encourage the students' best work. However, I am finding it bearable for now, so I will complain no further. I thank you for your weekend wishes and kindly return the favor with a prayer for a tolerable Monday._

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

_P.S.- A melon Quaffle might not fare too well. Either a hungry chaser or an eager keeper would be its demise. However, a spell might be able to preserve it until it could be feasted upon in jubilation…or commiseration, as the case may be._

Lily was surprised at the length and how easy it had been to write so much to a complete stranger. She also wondered at the slightly unusual cadence of the letter, but shrugged it off and closed the journal, wondering what Monday would bring.

A/N Saw this idea in another fanfic, but the writing was atrocious. I couldn't get my mind off the concept, though, so I thought I'd try my hand at it.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not J.K. Rowling. Go figure.

Lily was bored, sitting in her bed with all her books laid out around her. She was trying to work up the motivation to do some work, _any_ work. As of yet, she was having no luck. She glanced her Muggle Studies journal underneath her gargantuan Transfiguration textbook and heaved it out from underneath, curious to see if Sir Pen Pal's letter was in tact. She was happy to see that it was, although when she thought about it, it only made sense. If they disappeared, they would have no need for a whole journal, and it was good to look back on the letters to puzzle out the mystery of the partner.

But, Lily got a surprise when she absentmindedly flipped through the pages. She had a letter on the page following the first. And it was Monday night. She should not be getting another until noon Wednesday. _Curious…_

_Dear Me,_

_I was so anxious to reply to your letter and read your response that I bypassed the spells on the journal (don't worry, we won't get in trouble) so that anything you write will appear in my journal if you just tap it and say, "Mischief Managed." Don't worry about the code- it's an inside joke and probably the only thing I would remember._

_I was slightly upset by the lack of questions in your letter, but I have decided to write as though I am answering questions you have asked, and it must be up to you to furnish the question. Fine, thank you. Without a doubt. Maybe I could tomorrow? The blue one, definitely. Eight. I would love to. Pear._

_I anxiously await your questions, and perhaps more about yourself? I must confess, I wonder what career you aspire to, after your ramblings on the nuances of magic. A Ministry job, perhaps? Or maybe you are young enough to not have seriously considered it? I will tell you now that I ardently wish to become an Auror, especially these days. _

_I am hoping you find this before Wednesday, so my clever charm on the journal will not have gone to waste._

_Impatiently,_

_Sir Pen Pal_

Lily laughed at the letter and how it seemed funny in the scribbled writing, whereas she was sure the words would have seemed overeager and even creepy in her own, neat hand. She found herself immediately responding, wondering when she had developed such an interest in this project or, indeed, her pen pal.

_Sir Pen Pal,_

_Have no fear; I found your letter as I desperately avoided my work. I must chastise you for not only interfering with the journals but also revealing so much about yourself to me. I know you are an upperclassman who is not in Slytherin, thanks to your slip-ups. Tsk tsk._

_As for your question-less answers, I would be happy to provide some prompts: How are you? Don't you simply love that floral arrangement? Fancy a snog in the fifth floor broom closet? Which robber makes me look less fat? Well, how many pumpkin pasties did you eat? Fancy a shag in the fifth floor broom closet? And lastly… What rhymes with hair?_

_I hope my questions were satisfying, and now for yours: I cannot decide if I should be a Healer or an Auror. I thought Auror for sure, for the longest time. But now…I just don't know. I am praying for an epiphany. I have so many questions I would like to ask you, that I have never asked my friends for unknown reasons, but it would reveal a lot about me. It is very odd to actively conceal my identity and everything particular to me, when I have always tried to be so honest…_

_Am I just crazy? Probably, and in which case I should probably take a desk job far from people. Why do you want to be Auror with such fervor? What do you do for fun? (Please don't say shag in a broom closet)_

_Expectantly,_

_Me_

She tapped her message and whispered, "Mischief managed," without even glancing over it as she normally did. She felt a tad giddy and had no idea why. The thought that she may hope to become romantically involved with her _pen pal_ was just absurd, was it not? Especially after just two letters! This could be a fourth year with a gift for Charms, for all she knew. A fourth year with warts. A fourth year Hufflepuff with warts and a boyfriend. _Oh well,_ she sighed to herself. She decided to officially adopt a "go with the flow" policy. The official adoption meant Lily could berate herself for not following said policy, but that she was in no way guaranteed to automatically adjust her attitude accordingly.

After all, if simply changing your feelings was so easy, she might have gone out with Potter years ago. As it was, she had no interest in dating the fellow, which she supposed was better than her former attitude of 'I'd rather date a spidert han that prat. Anyway, she had been staring at the ceiling for a few minutes when she snapped out of it and was about to shut the journal, when she saw that a paragraph had materialized there.

James opened his journal just for a quick peek. He did not expect his partner to look before Wednesday, but defying the system had given him a chuckle and he was fairly sure that his partner's letter would elicit at least a cocked eyebrow, if not a laugh, so he felt the simple charm had been worth it. And by simple, he meant complex, but he was just _that_ good.

But, lo and behold, there was a rather lengthy response, which, he was correct, made him cock his eyebrow and laugh. A lot. He did not know what to think. He felt like he actually liked this girl. Which was silly. She could be some third year. With warts. And besides, he loved Lily. Was he ready to give up? And why was he thinking like this just because a girl had made a hilarious joke or two about broom closets? _Merlin, get a grip._ He was starting to get why Sirius told him he needed to chill out all the time- he was just too intense about _everything_.

_Now, I realize this looks slightly stalker-ish, but believe me, it was complete coincidence that I opened my journal as soon as you replied. And really, can I help it if my brilliance shines through my letter without my knowing it? By the way, I loved your prompts. And I wish I had fun in broom closets; my love life is currently in the toilet. And by currently, I mean always. No- for fun, I read, play Quidditch, play games with my mates. The usual._

_I want to be an Auror partly because of a family history of public service and partly because of…well, because of the reason my love life is in the toilet. What with Voldy running around killing off Muggle-borns, I would not want my unrequited love to be offed before she realized how desperately in love she was with me. Plus, I have a sneaking suspicion I have a hero complex. But shh. Don't tell._

_And how are you this fine day, Me? (By the way, I would love for you to ask me whatever you would like- I obviously have already made quite a few technical errors in regards to my identity. Plus, we don't want you to be dishonest, now, do we?)_

He said the magic words and watched them disappear, traveling to his partner's journal. He hoped she was still looking, otherwise his last inquiry would be awkward later. Although, now that he thought about it, he was unsure whether he wanted his message to be received. He probably had sounded pathetic with the unrequited love bit. He also hoped it was not a dead giveaway; most people in Hogwarts were aware of his and Lily's relationship. He was not disappointed when the response came back several minutes later.

_I am doing just fine this Monday evening, Sir Pen Pal. I am quite concerned that you may very well be stalker material. I would be more worried about a stalker if my love life were not also in the toilet; beggars can't be choosers, right? (Rhetorical.)_

_The questions I have are…strange. And abstract. I'm not sure I can even write them out. They're about life and the universe, I suppose…_

_Anyway, I find you highly incapable of keeping mum- you seem forever to be slipping up. Seems like you fancy a Muggle-born, eh? Any chance I can help? I may not have such a sparkling love life, but I do know a thing or two about the female species._

Uh-oh. Tell her about Lily? She was sure to figure it out in a snap if he told her any more; plus, he enjoyed their conversations and would not want another girl to get in the way. Bugger; what to do…

Lily twirled her wand in her fingers, trying to concentrate on homework. She continuously glanced at her journal, like some pathetic Muggle waiting for a phone call on a Friday night. Except it was Monday. And she was being productive. Kind of.

She felt ready to spill her guts to this stranger and ask him his thoughts about true love, eternity, and death. Every day, she liked the assignment better. Professor Burbage was right, it would not teach them much about Muggle culture, but it would, if nothing else, leave a lasting impression on Lily. She was fascinated by the effect the anonymity had; she felt passions she had long restrained fighting to come to the surface and strike on the blank pages. Luckily, Sir Pen Pal struck first.

_Perhaps us beggars should stick together, no? And I really meant it when I said I want to hear your philosophical questions. I feel a philosopher growing within me as we speak. These journals sure do strange things, huh? _

_Thanks for your offer on romantic advice, but I have to pass. No sense dwelling, and why waste precious parchment on the past when the present is slipping away?_

Lily felt the faintest heat in her cheeks, though she was unsure why. How had this happened? The tenor of their letters had changed, and in such a short time and subtle manner. She knew no one who read them would be able to notice, but to her it was glaringly obvious.

_Is there such as thing as true love? Can it exist without encouragement? Is it destined or is it either fostered or killed by a series of choices? Does anything last forever and if nothing does, should we seize the day or give up on ephemeral things? How can such a cruel world make such beautiful things as fragile spring blooms?_

James read her response and felt a tiny tug at his heart. There was someone else out there who felt drowned in thought and afraid to voice their waterlogged thoughts.

_True love can spring from the briefest encounters, because love is an act and a feeling from the soul, and some people are built to see each other's souls- right from the start. This love can suffer from bad choices or circumstances and never see fruition, but can it be killed? It is something I have often wondered, and something for which I have sometimes wished…_

_Whether or not anything can last forever, I believe we should always live to the fullest and take what we want when we can grab it. And if the beautiful flower that blooms tentatively in spring did not have to endure winter, it would be no more precious than an unremarkable evergreen bush. Suffering illuminates the beauty in this world._

Lily hardly paused before her quill scratched at the paper.

_When my mother died, I promised I would try never to succumb to my emotions so easily. We…we fought right before she died. I've forgiven myself, but how can I let my temper flare if I know that I could experience that pain of never having the opportunity of forgiveness again? Yet- I feel I am losing friends. Only my best friend stays by my side as I embrace a calmer way of life- less outbursts, Healer instead of Auror, smile instead of laugh. It's as if the love dies with the anger inside me, yet how can I embrace those fleeting emotions you defend? And love…you speak of it beautifully. I have never loved anyone, not in a romantic way, but if loving a mother can hurt so much…_

James had his dipped quill, ready.

_I am so sorry you did not get to say the kind of goodbye you would want to your mother. My parents died this summer. I never got to give them a proper goodbye, either. It hurts like hell, but would your mother choose for you to consciously be a muted version of yourself? I- I don't know how to say this, but I already feel as if I know that you are special. It is strange, but your letters convey so much about you, more than just what your words say._

Lily stared at the page with a wondrous expression, thinking of how she would probably be embarrassed about the whole conversation in the morning, but not regretting or doubting it now. She looked at her watch and dipper her quill for the final time, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she seemed to be somehow be, not falling in love, but sliding into a romance that scared her in its speed, intensity, and inexplicableness. Perhaps she flattered herself, but… there was something there.

_I know what you mean. Can this be happening? _

She blew out the candle she had lit and quietly crawled under the covers, so as not to disturb her dorm mates, who had come up somewhere during her conversation with a stranger who felt so familiar.

A/N Yeah it seems fast and unrealistic, but a) love can be like that, b) it's the magic of anonymity, c) I'm impatient. I like a style that focuses a lot on what they actually say to each other, rather than glancing over the "dialogue" that is what makes Lily realize James is the one for her. Sorry if it gets tedious. PS- I edited a bit after realizing some formatting problems.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** It's not an abandoned story! Yay! Also, sorry I am super busy (can anyone say taking 21 credits, over half of which are advanced philosophy classes, plus being an RA and planning a wedding suuucccckkkkssss?) so this story might go unrealistically fast, but hey- it's fanfiction, right?

**Update**: Finally figured out page breaks!

* * *

Lily had been right. The next morning, she _did _feel awkward. How could she have let so much of herself out to a person she knew virtually nothing about? What if turned out to be a fourth year? She knew, intuitively, that it wasn't, but the point was that he could be someone that in real life she would never want such an intimate connection with- like that pimply sixth year Ravenclaw who was forever picking his nose. She groaned into her pillow and tried to write her behavior off to sleep deprivation- a weak claim at its best.

And yet, part of her still could not wait for their next communication. September, and she was already in a tizzy over someone she had just met (in the sense that they had just become pen pals, which was even more pathetic). _Ugh._

_

* * *

_

James awoke and found himself confused about the night before. He had never felt so invested in a girl besides Lily, which led him to believe he must have more than a purely platonic interest in his pen pal- going by his track record of instant romantic obsession. Yet, he knew that when he went down to the Great Hall for breakfast and saw Lily, his heart would clench and his stomach would quiver and his mouth would go dry and he would be unable to keep his eyes off of her for more than five minutes. So how could he like two girls at once? And how could he like a girl he had never met and just begun communication with? She was so like Lily… _Ugh. What if Lily never changes her mind? Will I spend the rest of my life looking for a girl __**just**__ like her? Kill me now._

Lily went down to breakfast with Mary and sat in their usual, middle-of-the-table-ish spot. She felt odd, but could not place the feeling. After putting jam on her toast, she looked around the hall. And spotted James Potter staring at her. In her strange state, she neither huffed (her usual reaction of the year before) nor quickly glanced away (her usual reaction whenever she accidentally made eye contact with someone other than Potter), but stared back. And he did not glance away immediately, like he normally did. He held the contact. After a few seconds, Lily cocked her head a little, and then looked away. _How odd._ She felt that funny feeling again, but returned to her toast, which she was diligently spreading with jam. Lily took longer on her jam than most because she liked to squash out those lumpy bits as best she could.

* * *

His heart had stopped. It had literally forgotten to beat when she looked him in the eye. Recovering, he was unsure why he was surprised. His heart went AWOL whenever they made eye contact. He could see her soul when those emerald eyes found his, he would swear. And her soul was…beautiful and so full of love. If only she would aim that love at him.

"Mary, how have you been doing with your pen pal?"

"Huh? Well, fine I guess. We've only written a couple of letters, so I can't really say yet…

"Oh, yeah. Right." She continued to nibble her toast, trying to stop looking like a lost puppy.

"Why? Hey, are you ok?"

"Oh, fine. Just a little confused. My pen pal…found a way to bypass the journal's timed submissions, so we can send each other submissions at any time. We talked for a while last night."

"Really? Merlin- are you having a romance through letters? Wouldn't that be a story to tell the grandkids!" Mary got a dreamy look in her eye and Lily rolled her eyes at her friend, always leaping ten steps ahead.

"Mary! I just- I don't know. We had barely spoken- er, written- when things started to get…heavy. Like conversations that you and I would have at 2 AM during a sleepover. Only more. It makes me feel a little uncomfortable when I think back on it. I've always been private, you know? Now some stranger knows things about me, even if he doesn't know that they're about _me_, Lily, just yet. But, I'm still looking forward to when he next writes,'' Lily finished slowly, hoping Mary would have a magical answer.

"Sounds like a romance to me. They're like that a lot- a whirlwind, you know?"

"Yeah…" Lily said, still worried. She just wasn't the whirlwind type. She was the… the normal type.

"Oh, bollocks, Lily. I know what you're thinking and quit it. You are _so_ the whirlwind type. James Potter ringing any bells?"

"Wh- what?" Lily spluttered, flabbergasted at Mary's suggestion. "Potter, er, James and I are _not_ …whirlwinding together!"

"Passion's passion, and passionate people have whirlwind romances," Mary said with a shrug, reaching over for some eggs.

"You know what, enough about the whirlwind," Lily huffed, clearly displeased with the direction of the conversation. She found herself scarfing down her eggs in order to get back to the dorm more quickly to see if there had been a response last night. She had resisted the overwhelming urge to check this morning in an attempt to convince herself she was nonchalant about the whole thing. Lily had since decided she might as well give up the ghost and succumb to her desperate curiosity.

Her excitement mounted as she went up the stairs, two at a time. Around the third floor, she realized that a pair of footsteps were rapidly approaching her…were they taking the stair three at a time? She had to admit, she was impressed; most people couldn't keep up with her lightning stride, especially on the castle's steep steps. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Po- James thundering up at a faster-than-normal pace. Unconsciously, she slowed down and waited for him to catch up, which wouldn't take too long considering his very capable Quidditch thighs and apparent, fierce determination to make it up the steps in record time.

"Alright, James?" she questioned, doing her best to give off her gentle, calm vibe; she was working very hard to counteract the many years of hostility and miscommunication (okay, complete UNmiscommunication- Potter really had been a prat around her a majority of the time… but still) between them.

"Huh? Oh, what? Um…yeah. Alright. You… Evans?" he seemed very confused and very much as though he was as preoccupied as she had been. He blinked a few times and seemed to finally focus on her, chuckling a bit at himself. "Sorry, preoccupied, I guess," he apologized with a shrug.

"No problem; where you bolting off to?" she inquired as they started up the stairs again, this time at a normal clip. And was it her imagination or did he look _sheepish?_ He was rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and smiling in a mildly embarrassed sort of way.

"Oh, nothing. You know…" he trailed with another shrug. Lily thought maybe a little teasing was in order, considering her mission to improve their working relationship.

"Private go at the loo?" she guessed, lightly bumping his shoulder with hers and laughing at how his eyes opened wide, surprised at her ribbing.

"Gee, Evans, you sure know how to win a guy over- class and subtlety," he said, rolling his eyes. She laughed again and they talked about classes a little before arriving at the Fat Lady and parting ways to go to their separate dorms.

She plopped her stuff down on her bed and exhaled noisily. Staring at the ceiling, she was convinced that she was officially insane for believing that she was starting a romance with a complete stranger after a few letters. It was sleep deprivation and a lack of a love life that made spew all kinds of nonsense and then read dalliance into it. She chuckled at herself, satisfied at least that she would be able to behave appropriately from now on.

* * *

James was determined to discover the identity of his pen pal, a goal he had firmly set after deciding that he knew what he felt, and he wasn't going to question what he felt. Whatever was going on with this pen pal situation, he wasn't going to be embarrassed or faf about with it.

_Me,_

_I am confident I can say with conviction that you are, in the light of day, likely uncomfortable about last night's conversation. I had the same initial reaction, but there's no use playing at ignorance. We've got correspondence chemistry, we do. So stop that 'Oh, how mortifying' train of thought right now. _

_Also, I thought I should give you fair warning- my investigation to uncover your identity is now in full swing. _

_Ta,_

_Sir Pen Pal_

"Mischief managed," he said to the journal, and thought those words had never been more true….Okay, maybe they had been truer when they charmed all the toilets in the castle to take on fountain-like properties whenever a Slytherin's bum touched them.

* * *

Lily gaped at the message that materialized in the journal just as she was about to put polite quill to cordial paper; just like that, Sir Pen Pal had dashed away all thoughts of propriety by laying bare the situation. Was it awful that she wanted to sigh in relief? It seemed her new friend (or old friend, perhaps?... but she was sure she had never met anyone quite like Sir Pen Pal!) was a fan of the blunt, shying away from the usual socially expected games. _How delightful! _a more childish part of her giggled, while a much more adult part of lingered over his scrawled 'chemistry' and blushed, fantasies in her head of meeting her handsome pen pal and being swept off her feet…

Her handsome pen pal that could have warts and a boyfriend. _Damn._

_Sir Pen Pal,_

_I found myself at a loss for words after reading your letter; now that I have regained my verbal ability, I first much chastise you for presuming to know what I think and feel. I next must inform you that I have already begun my investigation into _your_ identity. I rather think I am making decent headway, in fact. Thirdly, I must inquire as to what, precisely, "correspondence chemistry" means._

_Cheekily, _

_Me_

There. That seemed sufficiently friendly without giving away her discomfort and confusion about the matter. She hoped.

But now it was time for reality to take precedence once again. Off to class it was. She gathered her books, straightened her tie, and prepared to be her newly boring, passionless self. Not that she would have phrased it quite like that, of course…

* * *

James knew he was going to run into something if he kept looking down to check the journal as he ambled to class, but he wanted to know the minute she replied- the second, even. He was having second thoughts about his last letter; had it been too forward? Too desperate? Just plain weird?

Sitting down in the Transfiguration classroom, he was surprised to see he was the first person in the room. The new James Potter was early to all his classes, but not this early…_Bugger!_ He had accidentally checked the time with Sirius's clock, which Moony had probably sprung forward so that Padfoot would stop being chronically late. _Oh well, the early phoenix gets the worm- ooh! She wrote back!_ He laughed at her response and immediately retrieved his quill and inkwell.

_Dearest Me,_

_I hope I make you smile as much as you make me, otherwise you sure got the worst end of this deal. "Correspondence chemistry" is a magical bond between two pen pals who seem to write each other better than most people talk to one another. Whatever else you might make of that, it certainly means we could be great friends. And I have not decided whether I will help your investigation along or hinder it. _

The letter continued with more jokes and questions for her to answer, finishing with a witty plea for a quick reply. James set aside the journal as the class started to file in and the general decibel level of the room swelled higher. Minutes later, the decibel level ran home crying to his mummy when McGonagall gave the seventh years _that_ stare.

As usual, James' eyes followed Lily's form when entered the room. Not as usual, however, she walked calmly to her desk; last year, she would have sauntered, strut, or at least shuffled. Anything to indicate her vivacious and shifting personality. Not for the first time, he wondered what was wrong with his Lily.

_One day, I'll be the first person she tells her troubles to. I'll be the person she comes to for help. One day, _he thought.

**A/N** Alright, so I wrote this chapter bits at a time over many, many months, so sorry if the flow is off! Please review; if you don't, I assume it's because you didn't like it, and that makes me sad haha. Til next time!


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